Idle Musings
by Shadow Oblivion
Summary: Short chapters of varying topics involving the four horsemen of the apocalypse, with more of an emphasis on War and Death.
1. Flying high

Guess what I've decided to do.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Darksiders series.

X-x-x-x-x-x

War was not at all pleased that Death had happened upon him in a rather embarrassing position. Tilting his head so that he could see the elder horseman, War spoke through gritted teeth, "Don't say a word."

"I've said nothing, brother."

"I can tell from the way you're looking at me that you're thinking of saying something sarcastic."

"Would you like for me to say something about the way you always draw trouble from demons instead?"

"...are you just going to just stand there and stare at me while you run your mouth?"

"...yes, I think I will. After all, I'm trying to figure out how you ended up there despite the fact that your armor is heavy and shouldn't have allowed you to fly that far through the air."

It was worse than War had initially thought. That Death had seen him take a short flight through the air into the only tree for miles. Trying to hold his temper, War spoke again, "Once you are done amusing yourself with such thoughts, perhaps you would do something about it?"

Death smirked behind his mask, "Are you sure you'd like assistance just now? You look rather comfortable up there to me."

Death was further entertained when War started cursing from where he was hanging upside down from the tree, tangled in its branches. Death had thought it quite amazing that War had been launched so far through the air. Being struck from Ruin's saddle by a highly irate demon should have ordinarily knocked him to the ground.  
The dead body of a demon with Chaoseater impaling it nearby let Death know that War had retaliated for such a thing quickly. That, and Death had seen War fling the large blade with deadly accuracy, before he even crashed into the tree.

"I think I'll go look for our brother and sister. Perhaps they will help you out." Still amused, Death wandered off amid War's heated words of displeasure at the thought of Strife and Fury finding him like this.

Luckily for War, he was able to free himself on his own, though it was not in time to prevent the other three horsemen from witnessing his undignified flop to solid ground, accompanied by the sound of crunching armor.

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I figure short chapters are easy to come up with and are fun to write, as I apparently can't write anything serious for this series. I have about ten chapter ideas so far, and if people are interested in little tidbits that I can update more often with, cool. Plus, you know, I like War and Death interactions, which most of the chapters I have so far are.


	2. Failed politics

Death was idly twirling Harvester in one hand as he surveyed the land below, taking in the scene of War and several angels engaged in a sudden brawl from what obviously was started from War's failure to be at all polite when speaking to the angels.

Dust was wheeling about in the air above, squawking in displeasure for the fact that Death was not holding his weapon still for him to land on it.

Death watched with vague interest as War blocked attacks from several enraged angels. He shook his head slightly, and glanced up at Dust, "I'd stay low if I were you. Unless you want scorched feathers." A shot from a halberd below accompanied the last statement.

Dust dropped out of the air immediately to land on a rock, ruffling his feathers and giving an odd hiss at the shot that had nearly grazed him.

Death waited patiently, until the angels finally decided it was safest to leave for the time being, as War had injured several of them in retaliation to their barking halberds. It wasn't like their weapons had been doing anything to the Rider's armor anyway. Death wasn't at all surprised when War, armor scorched, finally trumped into view, looking a tad annoyed.

"Enjoy the show?"

Death grinned behind his mask at the sullen tone, "You started it. Insulting angels isn't the best of ideas, when they are already unhappy with your actions toward them in the past."

"Politics." War all but spat, slinging Chaoseater over his back, "The Charred Council should not have sent me to speak to them in the first place."

"You were to deliver a message and leave. Not incite a fight."

War grumbled something, and would have been sure to respond, when several angels appeared overhead, along with the ones that had retreated shortly before.

Death left them to it, not at all sorry to leave his brother to deal with the obviously upset angels.

"Dammit Death! Are you just going to walk away?" War demanded as he let a blast from a redemption cannon pass him by within inches. Chaoseater was back in his hand, deflecting shots from the halberds.

Death languidly continued on, putting Harvester away, "It's not a fight that I started, brother." Death circled around the combatants, and waited just out of sight, as he watched the fight renew amid a curse from War. Hand resting near Harvester, Death kept a careful eye on the battle. Even if he wasn't going to participate, Death would intervene should War happen to need assistance.

Though from the way feathers flew and the sight of teeth bared in a savage smile from within the shadows of War's hood led Death to believe that the youngest horsemen had wanted the fight all along, and didn't want nor need any assistance from the elder horsemen anyway.


	3. Chaos Theory

Death pulled Harvester free of a dead demon, and waited as War changed back into his armored self after taking out a whole horde of demons with his chaos form.

War slung Chaoseater over his shoulder, wearing a bored expression, "Those demons were all lower level ones. I shouldn't have bothered changing forms."

"You certainly would have taken less damage had you remained this way. Your large fiery form moves so slowly that demons can move inside the swing of your sword. I suppose you can jump out of the way of an attack and crush your enemies with your weight instead..."

War turned sharply to face Death, "And your Reaper form is any better? Your blade has a longer and wider reach too. Don't you take more damage in that form as well?"

"I'm Death. When I use that form my enemies can't get anywhere near me, as I'm hovering in the air out of reach most of the time. Unless I'm attacking, of course."

War scowled, and though in the back of his mind he knew this was a stupid thing to argue about, he felt compelled to anyway, "I may move slowly, brother, but shouldn't you be unable to float in the air in your other form, with those pointless wings? How the hell do you even remain upright? I see no legs to speak of when you change to that cloaked form of yours."

Death grinned behind his mask, and spoke dryly, "Psychic powers."

"You are making that up. Your wings can't possibly hold you up when they are in tatters. And you have no capacity for anything remotely resembling psychic power, as there is no room for it with your overwhelming sarcasm." War bristled at the laugh that sounded from Death, "And what is so funny?"

Death snickered a bit more as he eyed War, "Does that mean that your chaos form is slower and unable to fly because you prefer throw yourself into battle to squarely face your foes, to destroy first and ask questions later?"

War could tell that Death wanted to make this a contest of words, so he reacted accordingly.

Death had been unprepared for War to suddenly change forms again, so he didn't quite manage to doge out of the way of a flaming tail that pinned him to the ground.

There was a rumble of laughter from War, and a rougher sounding voice as War settled on the ground, keeping Death firmly trapped beneath his tail, "Try using your psychic powers now brother."

Death had no comeback for that, as he was more distracted by the thought that he had not been set on fire by the fiery tail.

Then, Death's Reaper form appeared, and anyone in the immediate area, demon or otherwise, made themselves scarce as a sibling spat began.


	4. Of armor and stat upgrades

War and Death had made the joint decision to accompany one another on their missions for the Charred Council.

War had initially grumbled about it, until Death pointed out that his task involved dealing with demons that had overstepped their boundaries. After that announcement, Death heard no complaints from War until a little detour caused the younger horseman to speak up.

"I do not think that treasure hunting was a part of the councils orders." War said with faint irritation, mainly due to the fact that they had not yet caught up with the demons. War craned his head up, eyes following Death's progress up the side of a wall.

With the demonic growth far out of reach, War was forced to to wait on the ground as Death nimbly traversed small hand grips and ledges. War was becoming a little more impatient with the delay, until he spotted Death drop down neatly from the cliff above. War spotted arm guards and what looked to be an upper body armor piece of some sort held beneath one of Death's arms. War sighed, "That was it?" No souls? No wrath energy? No health energy? Armor? That was all?

Death seemed to sense War's incredulous thoughts, "Not all treasure chests are going to have wrath or health energies. And what use for souls do I have, when I can call on them whenever I wish to?" Death indicated the upper body armor. "Besides, with this alone my defense will go up 120 points, should I chose to wear it."

War eyed the armor skeptically, "It doesn't look all that sturdy. A few good hits from a demon's sword would destroy it."

Death settled the armor over one shoulder and turned to face War, dry humor in his tone, "That's only if the demons can touch me in battle." Death paused, and then added with a tiny smirk behind the mask, "You're just jealous that I find more useful things in treasure chests scattered around numerous realms than you do, weapons included." At War's sort of derision, Death added cheerfully, "I also can look however I wish with all the different pieces of armor I come across."

War stared at the elder horsemen with a vague look of harassment, "Chaoseater is all I need for a weapon, and my armor is perfectly fine. Besides, I did have another set of armor...somewhere."

Death was grinning by now, "The one that looks very unflattering on you?"

War's response to that mockery of a question went unheard as the demons Death had been looking for dropped down out of portals from directly above the two horsemen.

War had been right in the fact that the armor Death had picked up would not last for long, though War hadn't expected for Death to throw it at oncoming demons so as to disorient them as he went for his weapon.

Death bemoaned the loss of a 120 point defense upgrade before he had a chance to use it, as he impaled a demon on Harvester. It didn't bother Death for long, however, as he sent a few demons into the path of Chaoseater. There was always going to be a chance for good armor to be found in other treasure chests.

Death only had to locate another one.

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I always got excited when a treasure chest spat up a piece of armor that upped Death's defense and attack. Most of the time it was crappy armor, though there have been some good sets of armor that have appeared on the second time playing through the game.


	5. Misplaced Blame

In retrospect, it probably would have been smarter to tell Fury that he had absconded with her armor, so as to avoid what followed.

Of course, the elder horseman hadn't expected Fury to notice so quickly. After all, she had no orders from the Charred Council, and no demons had found it in them to bother the four horsemen for several months. It was a temporary, welcome peace, though War was displeased with the lack of fights.

The first inkling that Death had that Fury had found out that her armor was missing was an argument of raised voices, followed by a very uncharacteristic male yelp. Immediately, the sight of Strife being flung through the air could be seen, along with the painful landing that followed soon after.

Death blinked from where he had come to a halt, as Fury strode into view, stalking toward a disoriented Strife. Fury was clad in a tunic and pants, and had whip in hand, eyes flashing dangerously.

Death quickly intervened as soon as he figured out that Fury likely thought that Strife had hidden her armor from her, as he had done so sometimes in the past. Death reached out and gently yet firmly wrapped a hand around Fury's wrist to prevent her from causing any more potential damage to Strife.

Fury turned her attention from Strife to Death, and her grasp on the whip tightened at the interruption, "What is it, brother? I'm trying to find my armor."

"I somehow doubt throwing Strife around through the air will help." Death said, faintly amused, as he prevented Fury from freeing her wrist by tightening his grip slightly, "In any case, you won't learn where your armor is from him. I was the one who took it, and only to have it fixed. I saw you favoring one side of your body during the last battle we were in months ago." Death released Fury's wrist slowly, "As I saw no signs of injury, I made the assumption that you were acting in such a way because of your armor and that it may have weakened in some places."

Fury had lowered her whip, to stare at Death with a bit of a frown, "Why wait so long...and why not ask me first? I was planning on getting it fixed as soon as I found a reliable source to actually fix it and not just take my money and run without doing the job." Fury snapped her whip out to the side, the tip digging into the ground an inch or so from Strife's nose, who had been discreetly trying to inch away.

Death shrugged, not saying anything of Strife's attempt to remove dust from his eyes, "I did not think you would approve of the one I took it to to be fixed. I had also intended for it to be a surprise." Death' s voice took on an amused tone again, "To perhaps make you wonder if it fixed itself or if you had been mistaken about its apparent weakness in the first place."

Fury narrowed her eyes, before deciding it wouldn't be worth it to be cross with Death, as he'd likely just say something sarcastic in response. So, she turned to Strife instead as she put away her whip, "I didn't throw you too hard into the ground, did I?" It was as close to an apology as Strife would get that day.

Strife looked up at Fury sullenly, but decided that he would rather not start another argument, especially when he had lost his guns through the fling through the air.

Death snuck off before Fury could question him about where he had taken her armor, and Strife silently cursed him for leaving him alone with an unhappy, unarmored Fury.


	6. Entirely Unhelpful

Of all of the predicaments that Death could have found himself in, this was one he never expected to have to experience. Death's hands tightened their grip on the ground before him, and he cursed under his breath for not wearing arm-guards that would have clawed armor over the tips of his fingers. Death could have dragged himself out of the quicksand pit with no problem if that had been the case. Instead, he hung on to what he could, to prevent himself from sinking further.

Death cursed again as he sank a bit, and was displeased in the fact that he had no energy at the moment to change into Reaper form. A curious caw sounded, and Death slid a look to the side, to see Dust settle on the ground nearby, ruffling his feathers. Death fixed a look on the bird, "Lot of help you were. How did you not spot this from above?"

Dust let out a squawk and preened his feathers, entirely unconcerned.

Death ignored the bird for the moment, and turned his head to look up at Despair, as the horse had settled on the ground nearby, as if getting ready to take a nap. Death nearly sighed at the sight, "Are you going to join Dust in being unhelpful?"

Despair made a spectral whinny, as if in thought, before leaning forward above Death's head, and sniffing at his hair and mask. Then, with a hollow snort, as if Death were ridiculous for even falling into the sand pit in the first place, Despair lowered his head a bit more and nibbled a bit at the tattered cloak around Death's neck and shoulders. Apparently gaining some hold on it, Despair gave the tattered cloth a tentative tug. The movement pulled Death out of the sand by an inch or so, before the cloak tore and came free in Despair's mouth. Despair dropped the cloak and mouthed at Deaths arm, before the horseman waved the horse back, after using the hand to pat the muzzle of the ghostly horse.

"Well, at least you tried." Death decided, as he returned the hand to the ground, trying to figure out just how long he had to wait for his energy to return to him.

Dust, as helpful as ever, decided to land on Death's shoulder, as if thinking that this would aid him. Instead, it only caused Death to sink further.

"I hope this isn't your version of help, as it isn't doing what you think it should."

Dust cawed, then took off suddenly.

Before Death could even give voice to whatever he had been going to say to Dust, a voice interrupted that train of thought. Death sensed the presence right before the voice sounded. War.

"What are you doing?"

"Sinking to my doom by way of quicksand."

"...Don't sound so happy about it."

"I'm just trying to be positive."

"Try being positive about something that doesn't involve dying."

"I'm Death. Isn't that what I think about most often?"

"...It can be depressing to be around you."

Death withheld his response as he felt an armored hand seize his arm and yanked him free of the quicksand in one smooth motion. Death stumbled backwards into the resting Despair and glanced over to find War staring at him with something akin to amusement.

Despair chose that moment to knock the Horseman over and nuzzle him. Just to further make Death look undignified, Dust fluttered down to land squarely on Death's chest. The crow puffed up and settled down more comfortably as if to take a nap, eyes closing.

It didn't help that War was entirely too entertained by what he was witnessing, until Ruin decided to join in on the fun.

If fun could be a gigantic warhorse knocking you over to rest an equally gigantic head on your stomach.


	7. Watcher Woes

"Over here!"

War turned to observe Watcher as he glided to an upper balcony, and War could see no obvious way to reach it from the ground below. So, War decided on a whim to investigate the immediate area. Perhaps there was a lever somewhere that would alter the room and allow him to get up to that infuriating creature.

Watcher saw War moving about the room, apparently ignoring him. Watcher flexed one long fingered hand before letting it brush an imaginary speck of dust off the other shoulder. Watcher hovered above the ledge, swaying to and fro with a twitch of his wings. A few minutes passed with nothing but the sound of War tromping about the room in his armor and it was that sound coupled with the horseman ignoring him that finally drove Watcher up the metaphoric wall. Watcher let out an exasperated breath despite having no mouth and let loose a threat to the horseman on the ground below, "Get over here before I kill you!"

War ceased his search for the obviously non existent lever and cast a withering look Watcher's way, "Then you would face the destroyer alone, and from your stature I think it would be a short, one-sided battle. " War pointed a finger at Watcher, as he noted that the creature was ready to blast him with more abuse, "If you want me up there then find a way up. Not everyone can defy gravity with such ease."

Watcher, had he a mouth, would have bared fangs at War in a snarl. Instead, the six glowing eyes narrowed to slits, and a hand was clenched into a fist. Watcher couldn't stand this horseman and his taunts, but this time, War did have a point, as the shadow wings ability War received from Samael could only carry him so far. With a moody snap of his wings, Watcher glided around the small room, looking for a way for War to climb up and reach the ledge, while said horseman watched.

After a few moments of flitting about, Watcher found a likely area, half hidden in the shadows and in the corner of the room. Watched twisted about midair, about to call to War that he had found a place to climb. Watcher started in surprise and drifted up out of reach once he realized that War was standing directly behind him. Watcher didn't miss the faint curl to War's lips at his actions.

Watcher observed the horseman maneuver around the room to the ledge, and drifted after War. Watcher didn't understand why War had smirked, even if it had been brief. After another minute or so, some thought struck Watcher that sent the creature into a furious twist through the air, hissing angrily as he swooped down to block War's path.

"Damn you! You already knew the lower ledge was there, didn't you?"

War raised his left hand and brushed Watcher aside, "I don't know what you are talking about."

Watcher clenched both hands into fists this time, but as War was doing as he was supposed to, Watcher couldn't do anything. With a few curses, Watcher dissipated into a trail of mist to go sulk in War's armored left gauntlet to plot his future revenge.

War had, in fact, spotted the lower ledge, but only after observing Watcher flit around. War continued on his way, undaunted, and was looking forward to the day he could rid himself of the annoying little parasite.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

I was amused when Watcher got impatient with you in the dungeons when you didn't get to him right away where he was indicating something. I don't remember the exact words, but I think it was along the lines of a death threat, which War would then brush off and in turn infuriate Watcher more.


	8. The Swarm

Death swung the muzzle of a Salvation cannon toward the oncoming swarm of creatures, taking the nearest out with a few bursts from the barrel. After the last creature fell to lie dead on the ground, Death discreetly moved over to one side of the nearest building, looking ahead to see if there were any enemies other than the Swarm. To Death, they were little more than nuisances when in a larger group. Singly they presented no threat to him...

Sharp, cracked claws raked across Death's back, and he stumbled forward as another two of the creatures from the Swarm attacked him from behind, where Death had been quite sure that he had destroyed them all before moving on to the next area.

Death dumped the cannon and reached for his scythes, as more claws joined in raking his back and sides, and had he been able to bleed he would have been bleeding massively from the numerous wounds. With several deft movements of the whirling twin bladed scythes, the four creatures of the Swarm harassing him lay in pieces all around him. Replacing the blades at his hips, Death turned to pick up the Salvation cannon.

Death took a few steps toward what appeared to be a dead end, and, after double checking that everything was clear (and that none of the Swarm was creeping up from behind) Death cast a glance up to where Dust was circling overhead. Death took a few more steps toward the area where the bird was fluttering overhead, when a horn sounded out of the blue and a Fleshburster came running at Death from one side.

Death was unable to bring the cannon up in time and was forced to endure the creature blowing up and showering him with bits of burning flesh. Death winced faintly, though more out of frustration that he hadn't sensed the creature before.

Death recovered shortly after, though still a bit battered, and hefting the cannon up once more continued on his search for the pieces of the Rod of Arafel.

A few minutes later Death ran into a Suffering and had nearly killed it with cannon fire when both a Fleshburster and several of the Swarm came at him from all sides, throwing off his aim, which allowed the Suffering to ram into him with a lunge.

Death dropped the cannon once more and back flipped out of the way, and destroyed his enemies with the swinging blade of Harvester in a single scythe. The area now free of foes, Death decided then and there that the Rod of Arafel had better be enough for the Archon to assist in getting the key to him. Some more foes appeared, and Death opened fire on the randomly materializing creatures.

If the Archon was lying to him, Death would be sure to be swift in dealing out a fitting punishment for making him endure this.

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More parody-ish. I swear I would take all those bastards out, but they always seemed to attack Death from behind when the horns sounded, making me have to reset because Death would get hit hard by a Suffering, and the potion wouldn't work fast enough.


	9. Hot Spring Inturruptions

Fury, after completing a mission for the Charred Council, happened upon a secluded hot spring, and decided to hell with the possible demons that might come skulking into view. She wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to soak in a hot spring, as its heat would be much preferable than the Charred Council's domain. After scouting around the entirety of the spring, Fury was satisfied that no demon or other being was lying in wait to strike. Finding the spring that had the most cover from the surrounding land, Fury got settled in, looking forward to a short relaxation period before getting back to the Charred Council to report. After all, her mission had gone much more smoothly than thought, and she had a little time to indulge.

Fury closed her eyes, running a hand briefly over the tattoos framing her eyes, before speaking up in a sharp tone, "Touch my clothing, armor, or whip, and you'll find yourself in danger of drowning." Fury opened her eyes in time to see Strife slide into view, helm underneath one arm as he glanced around, looking and sensing for any potential threats as Fury had done earlier. Fury noted Strife's battered appearance, and withheld a smile, for the time being, "What happened to you? Did a demon find you disagreeable, or did you sneer too heavily at an angel?"

Strife, sensing no immediate threat that would need his attention, turned his focus to his relaxing, hot spring bound sister, sneering at the question she had just asked him, "Just some lowly demons. Nothing out of the ordinary, other than they were able to doge my shots more easily than they should have." Strife ran a hand through sheared black hair, sneer deepening at the demon blood that had worked its way beneath his helm.

Fury was silent for only a few moments, "Would you care to join me? The springs are quite relaxing, and I think the council won't care if we were a little late in reporting back to them." She ran a hand through her hair, and added with a faintly amused tone, "No demons, for now, anyway."

"Until they drop down out of their portals onto you," Strife commented, as he glanced at the armor and clothes and the whip, before turning his eyes to Fury once more, "As long as you're fine with..."

Fury shrugged, "As long as you keep your hands to yourself, I couldn't care less."

Strife made a face, "I already apologized for that. I didn't cop a feel because I wanted to. That demon threw me into you and I was just trying to get up more quickly to retaliate." Strife started fumbling with his armor, "Besides, you were wearing your armor." Strife caught Fury's eyes and he let out a long suffering sigh, "The spring is large enough for at least four demons. I think it'll be possible to 'keep my hands to myself.'"

Fury closed her eyes, and only opened them when she heard a splash. Fury cast a glance across the spring to Strife, and noticed that the other had closed his eyes and had sunk into the water up to his chin, letting out a barely noticeable sigh. Fury smiled a little at the sight, unable to stop herself from laughing softly. It seemed like Strife found the hot springs to be enjoyable. It was kind of cute, in an odd way, that something as simple as a hot spring would make Strife's near constant sneer mellow out into a neutral expression.

Strife, his eyes still closed, spoke, "Is something amusing you, sister?" When Fury didn't respond, Strife sat up a little straighter and cast a glance her way, wondering if something might be wrong.

"It just seems like you are enjoying the spring. And it is nice to see you not sneering on occasion." Fury said at length.

Strife offered a thin smile, and the two had a half hour's worth of a relaxing hot spring with no troubles, until the demons decided to pay them a visit and break the tranquil feel of the place.

Strife had been about to say something about his mission for the Charred Council, when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Quick as a flash, Strife had a hand at his pile of clothing on the ground nearby and drew forth one of his guns. Strife aimed the barrel up and let off a shot, before letting loose several shots into the bushes to his left. The demons dropped dead that had been sneaking up on the two horsemen from the surrounding shrubbery, and one very dead demon landed out of the sky and into the hot spring between Fury and Strife, the former wearing a look of revulsion, the latter an expression of bored indifference.

Strife twirled his gun in his hand, looking around to see if there were any other demons to be had. Not sensing any more demonic auras in the immediate vicinity, Strife settled back down in the hot spring, though he had moved both his guns to be closer at hand.

"Are you just going to leave _that_ in the spring with us?"

Strife slid his eyes from the dead demon floating in the water, to Fury, and his lip curled, "What, you don't like the bouquet of dead demon when you relax in hot springs?"

Fury gave him a no nonsense look, "You killed it, so you move it."

Strife _did_ remove the dead demon, and chose to lounge in the warm spring when the next wave of demons came, and was dealt with by Fury, who was not at all pleased to be interrupted, again.

Death, eying the two from nearby, glanced over his shoulder at the pile of dead demons he had taken care of, and wondered just why Fury and Strife were in a hot spring to begin with.

War didn't particularly care, as he was currently occupied with a bizarre game of toss the rocks back and forth and try to crush the enemy with them with two of the more bulky demons that had showed up.

Death kicked a not quite dead demon away from him, and decided that his brothers and sister could be odd sometimes, and did not realize that the hot spring was in his future from the look War was throwing his way.

X-x-x-x-x-x-x

This chapter is kind of weird/odd/wtf-ish but I do like to play around with possible ways the horsemen might interact with one another, when they're not engaged in a battle (for a short time), and aren't being observed by anyone else. I also like Fury and Strife, despite the little info there is on them, and I still stand by what I said before about liking the idea that Fury and Strife get along like War and Death do...for the most part.


	10. A game of the mind

War wondered why it was taking Death so long to talk to Samael, and after a moments deliberation, decided to go investigate. Just in case the negotiations had fallen through and Death needed assistance.

War entered the demon realm, and obliterated any demon foolish enough to get in his way until he reached a door of a sprawling castle. From behind those closed doors, War could hear the furious roar from the demon Death had gone to speak to. War shouldered the door open immediately, not content to wait should Death actually be in trouble. War charged into the large room, Chaoseater at the ready, when he came to an stumbling, abrupt halt, battle cry dying in his throat as he took in the curious scene he had walked (read: charged) in on.

Death was seated on a chair in front of a large table upon which lay a chess set. Death looked calm and unconcerned as Samael paced about the large room, aura flashing bits of fire here and there, tail lashing in obvious agitation.

With a wide stretch of wings, Samael was suddenly at the table once more, all but leaning over to look Death in the eyes, teeth gnashing as he gritted out, "You are cheating, Nephilim. Somehow, you are getting the pieces to do what no one should be able to do."

Had Death's brow been visible, a eyebrow surely would have risen up at the statement, "The chess pieces are not the dead, therefore I cannot manipulate them with my necromancy. And when you refer to the pieces doing 'what no one should be able to,' are you referring to the fact that you are in danger of losing the game?"

A inarticulate growl sounded from Samael, and War was perplexed by this behavior from the demon.

Death calmly ignored the hot breath in his face of a too close for comfort, unhappy demon, and spoke quietly, "Make a move, Samael, lest I fall asleep from boredom, so we can get around to business."

Samael narrowed his eyes at Death, but backed out of the Pale Rider's breathing space, and reached over to move one of his pieces on the chessboard.

Death, after only a moments hesitation of scrutinizing the board, moved one of his pieces and spoke softly, "Checkmate."

This single word set off another long chain of indecipherable language (at least to War), though Death apparently understood the language, as once Samael had finished his tirade, Death responded in a mellow, albeit slightly sarcastic tone in the same foreign tongue.

Samael grumbled something back, before disappearing via a teleportation ability. Death decided that it was a dismissal and completion of what he had come there for, so he rose wordlessly from the chair he was seated in. Death made for the door, and with a brief look War's way, the two left the demon realm in silence.

Once the two were on their way back in the direction of the Charred Council, War finally decided to break the silence.

"Why in all of Creation were you playing a game of chess with Samael? It sounded like the two of you had fallen into combat."

Death shrugged, and then said dryly, "Samael only agreed to part with some information if I won some game against him." Death raised a hand to stop War from asking another question, "I do not recall exactly how chess was chosen, but it seemed better than the two of us injuring one another when all the council had asked was to gather information."

War thought on this silently, and Death didn't seem inclined to speak further. There was another long stretch of silence as War recalled how some of the chess pieces had been slightly off, when he had been watching Samael rage. War stared hard at the back of Death's head, "You cheated, didn't you?"

Death's low laughter was all the answer War received, and War wasn't sure whether to be amused or exasperated by Death sneakily moving chess pieces when Samael wasn't looking.

X-x-x-x-x-x

This chapter is probably a bit ooc but I like that in the game that not only did Samael not hand over the key easily, he preceded to fling Death's sarcastic ass across the room pre battle. I do, however, like to think that they argued over petty things in the past and that Death would use his sarcasm to irritate Samael.

I have about three more of these chapters, and after that I'll wait for inspiration to strike as I work on chapters for other stories.


	11. Misleading

Death reined in Despair, causing the horse to snort and paw at the ground in agitation at the abrupt halt. Death patted Despair's wisp of a mane as he twisted in the saddle to look up at Dust circling overhead, "Dust! Get down here." Death held out an arm and watched as the crow dove out of the sky to land on his forearm.

Dust walked up Death's arm until he was on the Nephilim's shoulder, where he ruffled his feathers and let out a short squawk, as if to echo Despair's sentiments about the sudden halt.

Death turned his head so that he could fix his gaze on one of Dust's beady little eyes. Seeing that the bird appeared to be listening and paying attention, he spoke, "When I told you to find a path, I don't believe I meant a path that was convenient to you." Death had brought Despair to a halt at the edge of a cliff. One that the bottom could not be seen.

Dust looked at the horseman as if wondering why it mattered that it was a cliff. After all, Dust had found _a_ path, as asked by the horsemen. The path, of course, was across the cliff, but Dust didn't see the problem. Smug little bastard that he was, Dust tilted his head to look down the endless darkness of the cliff with what could have been bored indifference. After that, Dust turned his head back to stare at Death with one eye, and let out a faint hiss of air, as if impatient that the Rider found the cliff to be an issue.

Death found the crow to be entertaining, but didn't want to encourage the bird's behavior. Instead, Death held his other hand near his shoulder for Dust to hop on,"Did smacking into the face of a cliff a few days ago addle that small brain of yours? Is that why you believe this to be a decent route around the rocky terrain of this area?"

Dust's talons dug into Death's shoulder as the bird took to the air, one wing dipping down to clip the back of Death's head in the approximation of a slap. Not that either methods would have caused Death any harm. Dust was just making it clear that he didn't appreciate cracks at his intelligence.

Death watched the offended bird climb higher into the sky, still amused with Dust's actions. After a moment, he called up to the bird, "If that isn't the problem, then go find a path that will allow Despair to cross without having to leap far distances."

Dust let out a screech of irritation but flew around as asked, though the crow didn't seem too happy about it. In fact, he could see a few potential bridges from the height he was currently flying at, and seemed quite content to delay leading Death to any of them.

Death turned Despair about with a gentle tug on the reigns. Despair moved at a trot, following along after Dust after briefly tossing his head in what seemed like impatience to get going.

Death smiled at his traveling companion's moodiness, and spoke up after awhile to his horse, "You could have made that jump if you had been approaching it at a gallop."

Despair gave no response but had started to trot faster in a way that seemed to be almost smug.

"I thought as much. You just didn't feel like it and felt that Dust should do a little work for a change. Isn't that right?"

This time, Despair gave a spectral wicker that appeared to be in agreement with his master, who was grinning behind the mask once more.

Dust, circling around overhead in search of bridges, heard low laughter emitting from Death. Dust tilted his head as he glided along for a brief moment, as he considered the implications of leading the Rider by way of a rickety bridge.

X-x-x-x-x

I like Dust and Despair. I might do more chapters with them.

I'm also assuming that people like this/are ok with it, so I'll just keep updating it when I come up with ideas.


	12. Teamwork

War and Death plowed through attacking demons with bored, precise slices from their weapons. When the demons were nearly half the number they had gathered in, one flew just out of reach as it launched attack after attack.

Death avoided the magic based projectiles, as War merely allowed the attacks to bounce off his armor. After a quick, traded glance between the two horsemen, War held Chaoseater flat out to his side and gave a slight nod, eye on the other demons.

Death ran toward War, and leapt, landing on the flat of War's blade.

With a grunt, War launched Death into the air, right for the airborne demon above.

So shocked was the demon at the sudden appearance of Death in the air, that it didn't immediately twist out of the way. It hissed in pain and outrage as Death drove the twin blades of Harvester into it's back.

Ripping the blades free, Death swung once more with Harvester, the demon dying as it crashed to the ground below. Death landed near the dead demon and without a moments hesitation hurled one of Harvester's blades past War's shoulder, where it impaled a demon that had been slowly sneaking up on War, its blade raised in a motion to strike.

As Harvester returned to Death's hand, War spoke, sounding a bit sullen, "I knew the demon was there."

Death's mask hid the tiny smile he wore at his brother's disappointed look, "Sure you did. Which was why it had gotten so close to you, because you were going for a surprise attack. Were you going to swing your sword over your shoulder to kill it?"

War slammed a slavering demon to the ground with Chaoseater, "Should I launch you into the air again, with no destination in mind this time?"

Death's smile showed in his voice as he swung Harvester as a single bladed scythe in a sideways arc, cutting four demons in half, "Ah, so you _didn't_ notice the demon. No wonder you're being so surly."

"I am not being surly." War moved forward a few steps toward a demon that had been making a beeline for Death, and smacked the demon hard in the gut with a clenched hand, sending the poor creature flying through the air to knock over another one.

"I saw him coming, just so you know," Death commented dryly.

"Are you certain about that?" War drove Chaoseater completely through one demon to wound another.

Death turned his back to War's to take out a few of the bolder demons, "Just making a point that you shouldn't have been distracted by me being in the air."

War cast a brief glance to his own left arm, then, after ensuring that the demons had fallen back, for now, cast a look over his shoulder to the elder horsemen, "Has you definition of making a point changed over the years?" War didn't miss the quick look Death shot his left armored arm, before looking him in the eye.

"This is different."

War scowled a little, "Meaning you would still chop off limbs if it would make your 'point' in different circumstances, not involving demons?"

"That's not..." Death's response was cut short, as the demon, breathless from War's heavy punch, screeched out to the gathered demons, waving its broken blade, "Kill them! Kill the horsemen!"

The demons worked themselves into a frenzy as they hurled threats at War and Death.

Death gave the gathered horde a bored once over, "Do you think they rehearse that with one another?"

"Why would that matter?" War asked, hefting Chaoseater and holding it at the ready. He'd ask Death later about the little topic he was clearly avoiding.

The demons, apparently offended that the two horsemen before them were entirely unconcerned with their threats, and, in fact, their very presence, caused the demons gathered to let out blood-curdling screeches and hurl themselves at War and Death with no regard to safety.

The demonic snarls faltered as Harvester and Chaoseater tore into another score or so of demons, War and Death both looking particularly annoyed at the demons interrupting their conversation.

x-x-x-x-x-x

I'm sure I could write a lot of chapters with just War and Death in battle-it is rather entertaining. I need to go find the comic again (the one that apparently came with the Game Stop pre-oder, when I had no PS3). The last time I looked at it the print was too small on the screen I was watching it on to make much sense of it.


	13. Ruin

War took care of the remaining demons with Chaoseater as he raced around the arena with Ruin, and the horse seemed to take pleasure in stomping foolish demons that came anywhere near his hooves.

Once the demons were dead and none chose to harass him further, for the time being, War steered Ruin in the direction of the now open gate of the arena. War had the thought in the back of his mind that he would soon have to face one of the ash worms he had avoided earlier to get to the arena in the first place. Reuniting with Ruin would allow him to actually face the worm in a fight, and not run from the creature, and that was fine with him.

Ruin let out a snort as he ran, as if he could sense War's desire to kill something, and was wanting in on the action. He had some demon bashing to catch up on, after all. Ruin gave his head a brief shake, when he thought about the demon that had been using him as a mount.

War glanced down at the horse, a faint tinge of a smile in his expression, "I'm sure more demons will turn up, and you'll have your fair share."

Ruin let out a pleased sounding snort and galloped along a bit faster, as if eager to find more demons to decimate. War let out a low laugh at Ruin's eagerness form demon carnage.

"Something amusing you?"

War ignored the sly, irritating voice of the Watcher and instead chose to look ahead for any demons lying in wait, though he assumed that Ruin would spot them first, and would be ready trample them.

Watcher was not at all pleased with being ignored, and drifted around so that he was floating ahead of the galloping Ruin, to better look War in the eyes. Or attempt to, anyway. With the hood it was sometimes hard to tell if War was looking at him or not.

War wasn't in the mood for the Watcher's snark, so he spoke, in a monotone voice, "That isn't the best place for you to be."

Before the Watcher could ask why, Ruin suddenly reared his head and all but head butted the Watcher, sending him flying into the nearest rock.

War slowed Ruin to a trot, and discreetly patted Ruin's neck with his right hand, murmuring, "Not now, Ruin. The creature has a hold over me, for the time being."

Ruin snorted and came to a halt, pawing at the ground with a fiery hoof.

War patted the agitated horse again and amended, "You can do that to him when I'm not looking."

Ruin responded with a skeptical whinny, as if he didn't believe what War had just told him.

The Watcher was back up, livid as he circled around War. The manner the creature was moving in made it seem as if he were contemplating whether he should do anything in retaliation.

War nudged Ruin into a gallop once more before the Watcher could make up his mind, and instead had to struggle to keep up with the charging warhorse.

Ruin was pleased when he managed to knock the Watcher into a nearby sand pit and knew that War was as amused as he could be by the third pat War laid on his neck.

Watcher, meanwhile, was not happy at all to have two beings around now to irritate him. War himself had been enough to deal with and now his horse was with them too. Watcher would have to remember to stay out of the beast's reach from now on.

Ruin, oblivious the the Watcher and his troubles, raced across the sand more quickly at the sight of the ash worm, eager to be in a real battle after so long.

X-x-x-x-x-x

If you didn't notice in the other chapter, I like to torment Watcher cause, you know, he's an annoying bastard that you want to just kill the moment you meet him.


	14. Failed Politics II

Death glanced out of the cavern to assess the situation he and his brother now found themselves in. Death leaned away swiftly, as a blast from a Redemption cannon struck close to his face, pinging off against the back of the small cave. Death rested against the wall near the entrance and cast a somewhat exasperated look at War, who was on the other side of the entrance to the cave, "You always seem to get us into the most interesting of situations, brother."

War pretended to not notice his elder brother's look turned his way, or the words he had spoken. War instead patted Ruin's neck, a bit absent minded, as he thought about how best to deal with the angels that had cornered them in the cave.

Death tried again to get a response out of War, "Too bad you raised their ire so much that they've cast a wide ranged spell that prevents us from traveling from realm to realm at our leisure. This means we will have to eventually fight our way out, as no angel out there is willing to listen to reason."

War looked across to Death finally, and leaned back a little bit as shots from some halberds blasted the back of the cave, "It wouldn't be a problem to fight our way out. There is only one commander among the angels out there. The rest of the angels would fall easily to Chaoseater."

Death tugged Despair's reigns so that the horse came nearer to him, and then looked over at War once more, "What possessed you to start the fight in the first place?"

War grumbled something and Death eyed him disapprovingly. "What was that?" He had heard perfectly well the first time, but thought that War should say it aloud anyway, to hear himself.

War shot an irritated look at Death, "I don't see why we can't kill a few of the angels... They struck first." Even as he said it, War was cursing Death for the logic that was about to be thrown his way.

"Only after you insulted them. You know that we have no real reason to engage them in a battle and this situation is only a problem because you made a mistake and you don't want to admit it."

War would have responded to that, before the angels decided now was a good time to let loose another barrage of attacks that showered the two horsemen in dust.

"Time to go?" Death asked dryly, as the cave started to drop larger rocks from overhead, indicating that the cave was likely to collapse. It wouldn't cause lasting harm to either horseman, but it would be inconvenient to dig themselves out of a collapsed cave, only to deal with angry armed angels.

Without a word, War headed over to Ruin, who was pawing the ground eagerly in anticipation of a fight.

The angels let up on the barrage, and in that moment, Despair and Ruin came charging out of the collapsing cave, carrying their riders out of reach of the angels' weapons.

The angels, once they recovered from their surprise, gave chase.

Strife and Fury, who had been watching from nearby, decided to let the issue lie, as neither were in the mood to be targeted by irate angels. Strife did shoot a halberd out of the grip of an angel nearby that had taken aim at them. The sneer Strife wore drove the angel to draw a blade and dive out of the sky at the Nephilim, shouting something angrily.

Fury knocked the sword out of the angel's grasp with a flick of her whip, and even she couldn't help smiling at the angel's baffled expression. The angel in question had looked quite furious before, but now looked nervous to be unarmed in front of two horsemen. With a final glare at the pair of them, the angel flew off, presumably to get more weapons.

Strife took a parting shot at the angel, clipping the retreating angel on the wing as a warning to stay away. It didn't have the desired effect that Strife had been going for.

Minutes later, Death and War were joined in their race across the land by Strife and Fury, who had called on their steeds to outpace even more furious angels.

Death wasn't at all surprised, and as he knew that Fury had more sense than to start something with the angels without a call to do so, called over to Strife, "What did you do to incite their wrath, brother?"

Strife had his helm on once more, so his expression couldn't be read. There was, however, some contemptuous tone in his voice that would have matched a sneer, "They didn't like me disarming them."

Halberds and Redemption cannons sounded, and the horsemen urged their horses into a faster gallop, beginning to outpace the angels until they were out of reach of the magic spell that prevented realm jumping. None would have been put out at the idea of killing angels, but since there was no reason to do so, it was better to make themselves scarce for the time being.

It took quite some time for the angels' anger to lessen, and Death somehow suspected that Abbadon hadn't done anything in response because the impromptu fight had been over nothing of any importance, and therefore didn't need any retaliation, as no one had died. Curious, however, as to why Abbadon still seemed to still be so displeased, Death cornered War and Strife, to find out if either of them had said something that had perhaps offended the angels. Other than the insult Death had heard War say to start things in the first place, of course.

As Death had suspected, more insults had been said, but only by Strife. Death couldn't quite scold his brothers, as he silently agreed with their little barbed insults to the angels. He'd let it slide, this time. After all, even Death wouldn't call Abbadon an overgrown pigeon, among other things.

Well, at least not to his or any of the other angels' faces.

Behind their backs, perhaps.

"You're grinning again." War's voice was almost accusing.

"Maybe." Death laughed softly at the disgruntled looks on his brothers' faces, but decided not to enlighten them as to why he was amused. It was more entertaining for him to leave them wondering.


	15. Redemption ammo

Death found the mountainside waterfall and its surrounding scenery to be quite pleasant compared to some of the other places he had visited in the past. Death couldn't appreciate the scenery for long, however, due some unpleasantness he would have to deal with in the near future.

That, and the fact that a gun was currently held to the side of his head.

Death gave Dust an accusing look, but the crow, of course, saw no problem whatsoever, since the eldest horseman had told him to keep an eye out for _enemies_. Not warn him of an irritated, gun wielding sibling.

"Morning, brother," Death deadpanned, staring straight ahead, "Is there any particular reason your gun is pointed at my head?" Death tilted his head slightly in order to glance at Strife out of the corner of his eye, "Because I could take offense and you wouldn't like the outcome should I choose to do something about it."

If the thinly veiled threat bothered Strife, it didn't show, "My gun, Death. I know you have it."

A brow was raised behind the mask, "And you thought pointing your other gun to my head was how you should go about asking for it back?" Death found himself to be amused with his brother's actions, instead of offended, but Strife didn't have to know that, "Are you going to shoot me or continue on with this poor attempt at intimidation? I'm rather curious how you thought this would be useful to use against me."

Strife bit back a snide response, as he was fairly sure Death_ would_ do something about it, if he let off a shot, and that something was likely to be painful. With an irritated sigh at the obvious sarcasm in the others voice, Strife stowed the gun he held in a holster, "You shouldn't just walk off with someone's weapon." Strife gritted tersely, struggling to keep the words from taking on a sneering tone.

Death stood languidly and stretched, before tossing Redemption to Strife, who caught it. He turned away from the other horseman to look at the scenery for a brief moment.

Strife eyed Death with a faint frown, "Having a gun to your head does not bother you?"

"It wouldn't cause harm if it were to miss its target." Death responded, turning his attention back to Strife as he gave him a level gaze with a blink of his orange eyes.

Strife may have given the idea of shooting Death a go, but decided it wasn't worth it to try. In an effort to irritate Death a little, Strife instead chose to gripe about his pistol, "I hope you didn't damage Redemption."

"I don't see how I could have. All I had to do was point and shoot," Death said dryly, "I thought it interesting that the pistol never ran out of bullets, even if there was a delay after shooting it several times."

Strife scoffed as he inspected the pistol more closely, as if expecting to find signs of mistreatment while in Death's temporary possession, "Redemption draws on my power as a Nephilim, in order to channel power to the pistol. That's what allows it to have no physical bullets to load." Strife glanced up from Redemption, "As you probably found out, it has to recharge briefly after a certain number of shots before it is ready to fire again."

Death was intrigued, especially since he hasn't found this detail out sooner, although Death had suspected something of the sort, "Is that why you will shoot one gun more than the other? There does seem to be a lull where you are only shooting one gun. I suppose if you do that, you'll be able to keep at least one gun firing at all times while engaged in battle."

"You could say that," Strife said evasively, as he raised Redemption and let off several shots at a fairly distant group of rocks. Apparently satisfied with the resulting destruction of defenseless rocks, Strife looked at Death with a faint smile, "Did you try battling a horde of demons with my pistol? I imagine some of the demons got in a few hits while Redemption was recharging."

Death didn't deem the question worthy to answer, even if the mentioned event _did_ occur. He had snuck Redemption off a snoozing Strife as he had been curious about its capabilities in battle. As soon as Death had figured out the pistol's delay, Harvester wasn't all that hard to draw to deal with the remaining demons. So, Death evaded the question by asking another, "How did you fair with only one of your guns, brother? Did demons weep with joy over an imagined weakness?"

It was Strife's turn to ignore the question, as he twirled Redemption in one hand, "Do you have some pressing need you have to take care of in this place? A mission or something? Normally you'd have told me to go away by now otherwise."

"Would you like me to do so?" Seeing the scowl thrown his way, Death bit back a laugh, "I could make use of your presence here, but I think I would have to make sure that you don't do anything stupid."

Strife stiffened, obviously not at all pleased with the 'stupid' comment, "What do you mean by that?" Strife fell silent as he heard rusting behind him, and turned around swiftly, pistol up. Strife shot Redemption several times at a demon coming toward him, and watched to make sure the demon toppled over dead. That done, Strife turned his attention back to his elder brother.

Death narrowed his eyes at Strife, exasperated, "…and that's the 'don't do anything stupid' I should have prevented you from doing." Death indicated the dead demon, "It was a messenger."

Strife spared the briefest of glances at the dead demon, "Oh."

Death might have reprimanded Strife for his bored, disinterested utterance, but more demons appeared out of portals, snarling and not in the least bit happy. It seemed as if the negotiations that were to take place that day would not occur.

Strife didn't seem all that bothered by the sight, and merely drew his other gun.

X-x-x-x-x

Playing around with weapon function ideas (that likely aren't correct but entertaining to think about). I don't _think_ Death reloads the pistol during the break from shooting it, but then again I didn't look too closely because I was busy trying to keep demons/corrupted things from backing him into a corner.


End file.
